


Chill

by HeatherGiesbrecht



Category: Crimson Peak (2015)
Genre: Apologies, Aristocracy, Blankets, Blindness, Chocolate, Cold, Cross-Generational Friendship, F/M, Grocery Shopping, Horses, Master & Servant, Memories, Pre-Crimson Peak, Public Hand Jobs, Servants, Spring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-12
Updated: 2016-01-12
Packaged: 2018-05-13 07:58:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5700973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeatherGiesbrecht/pseuds/HeatherGiesbrecht
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With a chill wind in the air it didn't surprise him to hear the lady asking where the blanket'd gone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chill

1886

Finlay startled as Sir Thomas's hand landed on his shoulder then turned and squinted to see a faint sheepishness cross his master's face. How the young master grown whilst away at boarding school. 

"Ah, my apologies, old thing, I merely wanted to inform you that we've finished shopping."

He nodded, "It is quite alright, young master Thomas. I shall bring the cart around." Thank God that he'd spent sixty years of his life in Harding Poole going hither-and-fro from Allerdale Hall or he never would've been able to keep his job when his sight started failing all those years ago. With all the confidence of a fully sighted man he started toward the general store's door. He'd not gotten far at'll before he heard Lady Lucille saying, "Why did you do that, Thomas ?"

"Why did I do what, Lucille ?"

How he loved his young master, but Sir Thomas could be startlingly child-like at times.  

"Waste an apology on him. He is a servant, Thomas, not your friend."

"I'm sorry, Lucille."

Pain and pity for the young mistress filled him as he exited the store. Ever since Lady Beatrice had discovered the young lady sleeping in the women's servants quarters beside the nursemaid Theresa and nearly gotten her fired Lady Lucille had despised servants. After all, for the last two years she'd been trying to find ways to get him fired, well, near all the years he'd been in service to the Sharpes. That was he liked about Sir Thomas, he was like Lady Lucille's complete opposite - Sir Thomas did everything he could to keep him at the old hall. If he were Sir Thomas he didn't know how he could've managed to have only the lady for company all winter.

The Sharpes' cart horse a Shetland by name of Styx whickered to get his attention. People moved out of his path with cheery greetings amongst them being, "Nice to see you're still about, Ol' Finlay. Fine day, ain't she ?" and "Good morning, Mr. Finlay, 'ow's the missus ?"

A few minutes later, he had brought the cart to the door, put the groceries in the cart and climbed into the driver seat. When Sir Thomas and Lady Lucille had sat in the back he started on to Allerdale Hall. With a chill wind in the air it didn't surprise him to hear the lady asking where the blanket'd gone. Since Styx knew the way back it was not like he had much to focus on besides Styx, the bumps in the road and the wind.

Sir Thomas broke the comfortable silence, "I got you a present, Lucille."

"Oh ? And this is what ?"

"Just some of that imported dark chocolate you like."

It truly shocked him to hear the lady giggle, "Thank you, Thomas." before the blanket rustled. In all his time with the Sharpes he'd only ever heard her laugh in regards to things the master did and even then rarely.

By the time Styx stopped before the gates to the ancient hall he'd become convinced that Sir Thomas had caught cold for all his stifled coughs. What with how awfully cold the house always was it surprised him that colds were so rare amongst them. The medicines and such were always potent, which made the occasional cold all the more fleeting.

When he climbed down from the cart he asked, "Shall I fetch a syrup for your throat before I put the groceries away, sir ?"

Sir Thomas only answered after he'd gotten back into the cart. "Oh, no, there's no need. I, ahem, I'm sure it'll go away quick-like."

Finlay nodded, "If your certain, sir." Even though Sir Thomas didn't want any, perhaps when Lady Lucille went inside he would ask permission to take some himself. He was after all sixty-seven, colds were not a thing one could simply shrug off at his age.


End file.
